


Three's a Crowd

by Dekka



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Abandonment, Anxiety, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, This sounds sad but it's actually pretty fluffy, drug use in chapter 7, one sentence of mentioned suicidal thoughts, possible consent issues in chapter 6
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-11-22 01:52:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11370087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dekka/pseuds/Dekka
Summary: Tyler leaves Boston with a chip on his shoulder and a drink in his hand.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is purely fiction. All characters are their own, I do not own them, and all that jazz. I'm new to the hockey world (and writing fan fiction) so sorry for any inaccuracies. Also this is not edited, and I wrote this is the back of a van on a six hour ride, hyped up on pure adrenalin, so all mistakes are my own and I'm proud of them (expect for the italics that are not in italics because I haven't figure out how to do that yet on this site (finally figured it out- woo!)). Writing suggestions/critiques and such are very appreciated! Tell me if you like it and I'll write more chapters or start new series :)
> 
> Pre-warning: I took a lot of liberties with their 2013 roster and also when Jamie was named Captain

Tyler steps off the plane and into Dallas expecting something. A feeling of dread, maybe the realization that the trade really happened, but nothing hits him. If anything, he's blissfully numb. 

____

____

The three hour plane ride that he had been dreading for weeks ends up having an open bar in first class that he takes full advantage of, breaking down his nerves like a junker going eighty on the highway. When they finally touch down in Dallas, he grabs his metaphorical wheel tight as the ground shakes under him, but he's okay, maybe not perfect, but okay. 

Finding his bag ends up being the hardest part of his day, especially with the buzz he’s slowly losing. He can’t remember what he packed, or even what bags went with him to the airport. The irritation is just enough to have him pulling at his collar, throat feeling tight. As he's about to give up, bank account be dammed, he's saved. The man who approaches him taps him on the shoulder, lifting the bag that’s in his hand as a pathetic wave. “Picked up your stuff,” he says with a blinding smile and doe eyes. Though Tyler’s been warned about the image he has to uphold in Dallas, he takes one look at tall, dark, and handsome, and knows just what he needs to feel better, to feel great, even. He’s ready to lay on the charm, but just when words are about to come out of his mouth the guy holds out his free hand. “Jamie Benn,” he says this time. 

_Fuck. _Tyler’s brain short circuits just long enough for Jamie to blush, taking his hand away from where it had been hanging awkwardly, unshaken, between them. He stretches the rejected hand up to messily push his hair away from his face and _shit _, Tyler thinks, feeling his stomach go hot again. He has to actually pinch his arm to make sure he isn't still asleep on the plane, dreaming of playboys.____

_____ _

_____ _

He shakes himself again, willing his brain to attention, “I’m sorry, man. Long day.” The apology is enough to have Jamie smiling at him again, pearly teeth perfectly straight even after years of hockey. 

____

____

As if it Jamie’s everything isn't enough, he’s sweet, too. On the way to the car he stops for multiple people who openly gape at him. He takes pictures, he smiles, and he holds a baby. It’s been twenty minutes, and Tyler already knows this is going to end terribly for him.

It seems every time he’s pushed into a new situation something happens to monumentally mess it up. In Boston, the something was big and bad, and it had no name. It was a feeling that settled under his skin after his first day on the ice. The longer he was there, the more the feeling enveloped him. He figured out quickly that If he wanted them to like him he had to be like them, he had to keep up, he had to change. It wasn't like any team he'd been on before. They were harsh, talked as dirty as they played, and weren't afraid to take anyone down a peg or two just to prove a point. Jamie doesn't seem like the type of guy to captain a team straight into the ground or eat them alive from the inside. One great teammate is a baby step in the right direction, and still a beat better than Boston. Dallas is his chance to prove he wasn't the problem, and here he is, already burying himself alive in feelings he knows will get him nowhere. 

Those ridiculous feelings leave Tyler exhausted from having to keep his thoughts in check by the time they make it to Jamie’s ridiculous truck. It’s big, it’s black, and it wouldn't suit Jamie if it weren't for the Texas heat. 

_He’s overcompensating for something _, Tyler tries to convince himself, praying for some major character flaw to present itself in streaming colors so that he can stop fantasizing a life with this guy.__

____

____

Driving an hour and half with a stranger, in his experience, has never gone well, but he settles in and surprises himself when next thing he knows he's being shaken awake by Jamie. “We’re a minute out,” he tells him. It takes a while for Tyler to get his bearings again, so he can’t be blamed for the way his eyes settle on Jamie’s tight grip on the steering wheel and the muscled arm it leads to. Tyler gulps, shifting in his seat. 

Jamie catches his eye a second later and Tyler internally panics, worried Jamie knows he was staring, and blurts out the first thing he can think of. 

“So, you live in the building?” Cool, calm, and collected, Tyler pats himself on the back. 

“Yeah, with my brother, just a floor above you. It’s a great place. A lot of people have dogs, so-” Jamie pauses for a second, seeming to search for the right word, when he says “Marshall,” questionably. Tyler hides his surprise, confirming it’s the right name with a nod, and lets Jamie keep talking, “yeah, he’ll love it.” Jamie has a soft smile on, like he hasn't devastated Tyler and tripled the size of his heart just by remembering his dog’s name. 

“You like dogs?” Tyler fears Jamie’s answer. With the way this is going, he needs to find that character flaw, and fast. 

“Love them. I’d have ten if I could, but with Jordie and I both away it wouldn't work out.” Tyler nods, wondering if Jamie thinks he's a bad dog owner for leaving Marshall with a sitter while he's away. 

“Not that you can’t make it happen-” Jamie retracts, obviously worried he offended Tyler when Tyler’s only response is his head nod. 

“It’s definitely not the easiest, but Marshall is- he’s-” Tyler doesn't know how to say ‘he's always there, he’s all I have’ without sounding like a complete idiot. He figures Jamie kind of understands though, because he nods along. 

There weren't many things that were good for tyler in Boston. Between hookups, scandals, and the crushing pressure of being fresh out of high school and suddenly in the show, the only constant in his life was coming home to Marshall. No matter how bad he fucked up, every time he came home Marshall greeted him like he was the best person in the world, like he mattered. And to Marshall, he supposes, he does matter. He’s his dog’s whole world, and honestly, it felt good to be the center of attention, especially such pure, positive attention. Even his greatest accomplishment, the cup, was cast in a shadow after the celebration that followed. It only took one teammate pushing a pair of tequila shots away from him, telling him he should try to refrain from his normal fucking up, to put a damper on the night. 

“This is it,” Jamie says, snapping Tyler away from his soured thoughts. 

The building is nice, a good twenty stories of high end apartments with a gated-in back. Through the gate he can see dogs running around unleashed, their owners talking by a pool, and Tyler is already cautiously in love. He doesn't let himself believe all of Dallas will be this good to him, but he's willing to admit this is better than his expectations. 

Jamie carries his bag up for him and when they settle, he invites Tyler to his apartment for dinner with him and his brother. It’s easy to agree. It took months to warm up to his teammates in Boston, but an hour in Dallas has Tyler wondering if maybe it had more to do with the people than with the profession. Something about Jamie is just so, so inviting, and Tyler’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

Jamie’s kind enough to offer to help him unpack, but Jamie’s already done so much for Tyler today that he cant help but wave off the offer. All there’d be to unpack are the boxes of Marshall’s stuff, and one of hockey trophies and gear. Jamie doesn't need to know yet how much of a loner he is. 

They say bye at the door, deciding on seven for dinner. It gives Tyler five hours to overthink while he unpacks and showers. 

Once he gets to the shower he keeps his thoughts strictly on Boston, not letting them stray, distracting him enough that once he finally extracts himself from the hot spray, he’s already late.


	2. Chapter 2

Tyler chides himself all the way up the staircase for being ten minutes late, but when the door opens to a unfamiliar bearded guy, he's met with warmth instead of the stilted annoyance he was expecting. 

“Hey man, I’m Jordie.” Tyler meets Jordie’s smile with one of his own, trying not to show his relief at being so welcomed. Apparently the excessive kindness gene runs in the family. 

“Jamie is just finishing up dinner,” Jordie explains as he leads Tyler further into an apartment that’s a near perfect replica of his own. Something about the place feels much nicer though. It reminds Tyler of home, of nights he’d fall into Brownie’s bed, half drunk and in a tangle of limbs with his best friend. 

“Shit,” Tyler can't help but blurt out as he's struck with the realization that he hasn't called Brownie since he landed. Brownie knows he’s been purposely avoiding his phone since news of the trade came in, only answering calls from his best friend and the Stars organization, avoiding all messages otherwise, but that’s no excuse. 

“What’s up?” Jordie asks, completely unfazed by Tyler’s outburst. 

“I forgot to call my friend, its okay though, I’ll call later tonight.” Tyler tries to hide how anxiety has started to squeeze tight around his heart. Brownie worries more than his Mom does, and Tyler cant help but feel a heavy weight of guilt settle in his stomach along with the clenching of his heart. 

“Give him a call now, dinner wont be ready for another twenty minutes anyway.” Jordie waves him off, settling Tyler’s worry for the second time in mere minutes, but when Tyler goes to grab for his phone he's met with empty pockets. Jordie hands over his phone as Tyler is thinking of how rude it would be to leave so soon after arriving just to go grab his phone. 

“Thanks.” Tyler tries to sound casual, but even he can hear the breath of air that goes rushing out of his lungs as he remembers to breath. 

“Take your time, I’ll check on Jamie.” Jordie leaves the living room, but Tyler can still hear his voice from the kitchen, followed soon after by a rumble of Jamie’s. 

Dialing Brownie’s number instead of clicking his contact is like a flashback to high school when he'd grab the home phone off the hook and hide in his room, settling in for a two hour conversation that would drive his parents crazy over their bills. Thank God for unlimited plans. 

The phone barley rings before Brownie’s panicked voice is rushing over the other end. 

“Hello? Tyler?” Tyler sits down carefully on the edge of the couch, preparing himself for a thorough thrashing. 

“Yeah, it’s me,” he mumbles, thumb already hovering over the volume down button for when Brownie starts yelling. 

It’s silent for so long that Tyler has to pull the phone away from his ear to check that they haven't been disconnected. A small part of his mind expects to just see ‘call ended’ lit up on the screen, but the call time ticks on along with Brownie’s unending forgiveness. 

When Tyler puts the phone back up to his ear, “man, don't worry me like that,” comes softly over the line. Today’s full of surprises. 

He doesn't know how to respond, especially when just saying ‘sorry’ would never be enough for all the shit he's put Brownie through. 

“You’d call me, right,” comes next, crackling over the line, connection faint. Tyler can hear Brownie moving away from noise. He's probably out with his friends.  
“If what-” Tyler barley gets his words out when Brownie interrupts, “If things got too bad?”  
“I would.”  
“You didn't in Boston.”

And there’s that. There were the nights towards the end of his time in Boston when his team got sick of taking care of him, sick of cutting him off in bars and placing him in the backseat of taxis with another player to make sure he got home safe. There were the nights where no one wanted to help Tyler, where eventually random strangers or bartenders would take his phone and dial his emergency contact. The nights when Brownie would ask them to get Tyler a cab, hoping the stranger on the other end of the call had Tyler’s best interests at heart. There were the nights Tyler wouldn't make it home, waking up somewhere strange, or with a stranger. 

There were nights when it didn't seem worth it to see the morning. 

Dallas is his chance to prove he's better. Dallas is his chance to prove he's not who they made him to be. 

“I will this time,” the promise feels monumental, heavy on his chest.

“I love you, idiot.” 

Tyler takes a second to let that sink in. It’s been a while since he's heard someone mean those words. 

Jordie appears through the kitchen walkway, breaking the moment, motioning behind him in a way that’s clearly supposed to mean that dinner is ready. Tyler hastily wipes his eyes, giving Jordie a thumbs up and what he hopes is a smile. 

“I’ve got to go,” Tyler apologizes to Brownie. He can practically hear the eyebrow raise over the line, “You busy doing things in Dallas, Debby?” 

“My Captain and his brother are having me for dinner,” he explains, completely ignoring the way he can feel his face go hot at Brownie’s comment. The hum he gets in reply is overly speculative. Tyler doesn't respond, too scared he’ll start waxing poetry about his new Captain. 

Eventually Brownie relents, “You better call me tomorrow, Segs. I want to hear all about Dallas.” 

“Will do,” Tyler promises, and then softer, “And Brownie, I love you too.” 

Brownie is excessively blowing kisses down the line when Tyler hangs up, smile wide on his face. 

For the first time in a long time he feels settled, he feels good. Walking into the kitchen to face his new teammates doesn't feel like a slow moving nightmare. 

“Smells amazing in here,” he says, more to announce his presence than actually complement the cooking, especially because Jordie and Jamie are shoulder to shoulder at the stove, talking in hushed voices. 

Tyler would be lying if he said it didn't raise his barriers a little. One step forward, two steps back. It's a dance he's overly familiar with. 

Jamie throws him a sympathetic smile over his shoulder as he cooks, and Jordie descends on him like a dog finding a bone, wrapping his arm around Tyler’s shoulders like they've been friends for years. Tyler is admittedly a little thrown at the behavior. 

“Hey man, trades are rough, how're you doing?” Jordie shakes him a little as he asks, rattling Tyler’s body along with his brain at the line of questioning. 

“I’m actually doing pretty great,” he replies, slow and questioning, as if it’s the wrong answer. 

It’s clear it is when Jordie’s slight frown grows into a full one. His beard seems to form around the frown, amplifying his sadness, and for what? For Tyler? The guy he barely knows. 

“I didn’t mean to pry, but you looked pretty upset when I called you in for dinner.”

_Oh. _Tyler’s more than taken back by the confrontation. He opens his mouth to respond, “I- well I-,” closes it, opens it again, “It’s-,” and then gives up.__

__In Boston, even at his worst, no one openly asked if he was okay. There were the few guys who closely watched his train wreck of a life, intervened when they had to, but the next morning it was like the nights before had never happened. Marchand would always say practice wasn't the place to let emotion rule._ _

__“Is it a girl? Did you have to leave someone behind?” Jordie asks, nodding at Tyler supportively as he tries to gently coax an answer out of him._ _

__“Or guy,” Jamie chimes in from the stove, seemingly unfazed._ _

Tyler’s brain goes into hyper drive, a thousand things hitting him at once. “Not a guy, no. Nope.” _Real smooth, good going._

____

____

____Jordie’s arm extracts itself from around Tyler pretty quickly after that. It’s only once the touch is gone that he realizes how grounding it felt, and that he may have given off the wrong impression. This team isn't like Boston, he reminds himself._ _ _ _

____Jamie steps away from the stove, expression one Tyler hasn't seen on him before. It’s serious, piercing, but still gentle, “We keep a supportive locker room, Tyler.”_ _ _ _

____Tyler can only nod dumbly in return, wondering how he’s managed to mess up the atmosphere with five words and a defensive attitude. The right things to do in Boston, like hide his sexuality like a dirty secrete, are apparently the wrong things to do here._ _ _ _

____So Tyler decides to lead with half of the truth and hope that truth really does set you free. “It just wasn't okay in Boston. I didn't mean to have that come off like that. I’m not homophobic.”_ _ _ _

____The explanation is enough to have Jamie start explaining how Dallas’ locker room works, turning his attention back to the stove._ _ _ _

____Jamie hits every check point that every Captain says in front of the organization, but not every Captain actually means. This is Jamie is his kitchen though, in front of only his brother and new teammate, promising their team does everything they can to make sure everyone is comfortable and ready to play._ _ _ _

____“What a Captain,” Jordie teases pinching at Jamie’s side, obviously fond. Jamie pushes him away with a towel slap to the arm, telling him to grab them all plates._ _ _ _

____The food Jamie has out smells amazing. It looks like he took hours to make it._ _ _ _

____“Jamie this is-,” Tyler’s speechlessness speaks for itself, Jamie blushing under the attention._ _ _ _

____They get halfway through dinner with easy conversation before Jordie brings up the phone call again, frown right back where it was minutes ago._ _ _ _

____“It was my friend, Brownie. He worries a lot.” Tyler tries to play it off like Brownie's worry is unwarranted. He hopes it’s enough, that the Benn brothers leave it be. They don't._ _ _ _


	3. Chapter 3

The Benn brothers have interrogation down to a science. Where one brother leaves off, the other picks up. Two questions in and Tyler already feels like he’s given away his whole life story plus some government secrets. 

“So, he was just worried since you didn’t call?” Jordie asks, when both brothers seem satisfied with their acquired knowledge of Brownie’s family, schooling, and history with Tyler. 

“Yeah, we’ve been together for so long, I guess he just keeps thinking I’ll deconstruct without him around.” He hopes his laugh hides how often Brownie’s called in to pick up the pieces. _See: Boston. ___

__“Oh.” Jamie looks a little star struck, “I didn't realize- how long have you been together? Isn't the distance hard?” It’s a weird question, Tyler thinks, remembering most guys in the OHL and other teams having close friends from home or from other teams._ _

__“Practically forever. He’s been my best friend longer than he hasn’t.” The Benn brothers share a look, and Tyler gets a feeling that they’re unsatisfied with his answer._ _

__“I mean, we’re not together very often, but when we are, it’s like we’ve never been apart, which I guess is the important part with distance," he adds. Jordie smiles at him like he’s looking at a new person. It’s not the same smile he was greeted with, it’s somehow softer, more understanding, and even more inviting. He doesn't know what he did right, he's just glad he hasn't messed everything up yet._ _

__They finish dinner on that note, and Jordie and Tyler clean the kitchen together, letting Jamie relax and make them drinks since he cooked._ _

__Tyler can’t deny that he's itching for a drink. It helps cleaning up go a lot faster, despite the shake that’s started up in his hands. He drops two dishes into the sink, making water splash him and Jordie, before Jordie pushes him out of the way and towards the leftovers that need to be put in tupperware._ _

__There’s three large but flat containers out, with chicken, rice, vegetables, and salad leftover._ _

__“I’m no math expert but I'm pretty sure we’re missing a container,” Tyler jokes as Jamie hands him his drink. It’s just vodka and sprite, but it tastes like heaven, especially after the anxiety that’s gripped at him all of today._ _

__“Oh,” Jamie grabs the food instead of an extra container, “we do leftovers like meal prep containers.”_ _

__Sadly, Tyler has to put down his drink to finish packing up the food. He spreads out the food evenly, handing empty pans to Jordie as he does._ _

__As he’s handing Jordie the last pan Jordie casually says, “you can put mine and Jamie’s in the bottom drawer, but you should leave your's on the shelf.” Tyler pauses, last container hanging mid air, halfway to the fridge._ _

__The tears from earlier come right back, forcing him to push the tupperware into the top self and excuse himself to the bathroom. Emotions swell through him, waves of feelings he can’t place. He can’t remember the last time people took him in so seamlessly. The gesture is so natural, as if one dinner has made Tyler an integral part of their system, as if this will be their new normal._ _

__They did it without thinking, as if accepting Tyler and taking care of him was what they intended to do._ _

__The last time someone sent him home with food was back when he was nineteen and his Mom would pack up dinner for him. She did it out of love, wanting to care for her son. Jordie and Jamie have no reason to want to care for him, but here they are, open arms, and unending warmth._ _

He knows he’s taking it too far, but he can’t help but think of the packed up food and see it as something more than what it is and what it means. _They want me to eat tomorrow. They want me breathing, and eating, and living. _He knows his feelings are getting the best of him, but it means so much more than they could ever imagine.__

____________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____It’s been too long since he’s felt this way. It’s been too long since he’s felt someone cared about his well being._ _ _ _

____“Pull yourself together,” he hisses at his teary-eyed reflection, once the bathroom door is securely locked behind him. He looks like a mad man, eyes blotted and red, with a watery smile to top off the picture. Boston has left him this way, crying at the smallest gesture of acceptance and kindness. Knowing that this is what he could’ve had if he hadn't got drafted there leaves a sour taste in his mouth. He can't change what's happened, though. The past is the past, no matter how recent. So here he is, left traded to Dallas with shaking hands and a path of destruction in his wake._ _ _ _

____He can only go up._ _ _ _

____He flushes the toilet, forces his hands under cold water for ten seconds, and the second he’s back in the kitchen he tosses down his drink to wash the unwanted taste out of his mouth. _Fuck Boston. _____ _ _

______Jordie refills his drink, ever the gracious host, and Jamie pads into the kitchen, decked out in fluffy slippers, sweatpants, and a ripped up t-shirt. The anger and heaviness that was taking over his stomach is replaced near-instantly with warmth and fondness. Tyler wants to cuddle Jamie straight into tomorrow._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Want to watch a movie?” Jamie asks, doe eyes hopeful. He's holding an actual dvd of dumb and dumber in his hands. It’s so endearing, Tyler doesn't even chirp Jamie for having five smart tvs, but a plethora of his favorite movies on disks._ _ _ _ _ _

______It should be impossible to say no._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I should probably go back downstairs, it’s getting late.” Time is the least of his concerns. If he has to sit next to a calm and content, smiley Jamie for two hours he might lose his mind. His infatuation feels ridiculous. It’s been one day. He considers, for a moment, White Knight syndrome._ _ _ _ _ _

______If only Jamie knew what he's saved Tyler from._ _ _ _ _ _

______Jamie looks like he's about to protest Tyler’s exit, but Jordie nods his understanding, “You had a pretty long day, man.” Both brothers walk him to the door, Jamie taking a detour to give him the leftovers they boxed up._ _ _ _ _ _

______Tyler thanks them profusely, but it doesn't feel like enough. He considers how he can repay them, but nothing he can think of could regift the feeling they’ve given him that feels suspiciously like hope._ _ _ _ _ _

______It’s no surprise when leaving the apartment feels like a step in the wrong direction._ _ _ _ _ _

______His apartment is quiet where the Benn’s was humming, grey where their’s was bright. There’s nothing homey about his new home. Marshall’s stuff is laid out in the living room, but even that emits loneliness with the way his empty dog bed mocks Tyler._ _ _ _ _ _

______Before he can let himself sink too deep into this grey headspace he searches out his phone, face-timing Brownie._ _ _ _ _ _

______It rings and rings, but Brownie doesn't answer, leaving Tyler to dark, empty walls and treacherous thoughts. Just so Brownie doesn't worry he sends, ‘just calling to check in again, no big. talk to you tomorrow.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______He putzes around the kitchen for a while to pass time, putting away the food and checking out the dishes and pans they set him up with, but that only keeps his mind occupied for so long._ _ _ _ _ _

______He doesn't mean to get drunk, alone in his empty apartment, but it’s not his fault. Especially when someone from the Stars organization left a bottle of scotch on the kitchen counter with a welcome note. They should know better._ _ _ _ _ _

______Things get blurry pretty quickly after that._ _ _ _ _ _

______When he wakes up the next morning Brownie is shirtless in bed next to him, sleepily blinking back at Tyler. He can only thank God it's someone he knows and not a stranger. He's not ready to face the media scrum his first mistake in fresh turf will cause. Tyler can only groan out “what,” endlessly confused, and gently press his pounding head into the pillow. This is all too much of a mystery for him to handle right now._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I got worried,” Brownie grumbles back, pulling the covers over his head, as if that explains everything. His friend doesn't look ready to answer questions, and Tyler’s too tired to properly ask, so he falls back asleep once his head stops spinning so bad, content with Brownie at his back._ _ _ _ _ _

______The next time his eyes open it’s to Marshall, squirming and panting happily on top of him. Tyler would be excited if it weren't for the way one of Marshall’s paws push heavily on his stomach and bladder. He gives Marshall a pat, telling him he's a good boy, before he shuffles to the bathroom to throw up and pee. He’s got his priorities down if nothing else._ _ _ _ _ _

______His bed is empty when he gets back, so he follows the scent of bacon to the kitchen where Brownie is still shirtless, pushing food around at least three different pans. “When did you learn to cook?” He asks, accepting the water and Advil Brownie has set out for him._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I didn’t.” Brownie shrugs, turning off the burners. And he’s not lying. The bacon is burnt, the eggs are brown, and the toast sets off the fire alarm. Thankfully, Tyler frantically turns off the device before it triggers the whole building’s alarm system. _Small victories. _____ _ _ _ _

________“So, when and how did you get here?” Tyler asks, once they’re both unpleasantly full. Brownie slides his phone across the table, his messages open._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________And that explains that. ____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Tyler’s not proud. The drunk messages he has no recollection of sending get increasingly more depressing as they go on. And boy do they go on. He scrolls silently for a minute, taking in each soul-bearing message. He thanks God he sent them to Brownie. Anyone else would have him institutionalized._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“You didn't have to come all this way.” Tyler tells Brownie, trying not to feel guilty for the twelve hour car ride his friend took for him, with his dog no less._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Believe it or not, I left after I talked to you when you were getting dinner. You sounded fine, but you were with people, I was worried anyway, and Marshall kept looking at me like I’m the one who took you away.” It’s long winded, but it makes Tyler’s chest loosen. “I’m sorry-,” Brownie cuts his apology off with a wave of his hand, “don’t apologize for not being okay yet, this is new, you'll get there.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Tyler does the only thing he knows how to do when Brownie gets so philosophically smart on him; he pulls his friend into a hug, holding tight. They stay that way for what would probably be an awkwardly long time for anyone else. After what feels like forever and simultaneously not enough time, someone knocks on the door, forcing them to pull apart. They act giddy, like children home alone, and sneak up to the door. Brownie pushes Tyler from the peep-hole to get the first glance at their unexpected guest._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Damn,” Brownie whispers, drawing it out until Tyler slaps him, “It’s a honey with muscles and sweet eyes.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Fuck,” Tyler hisses, pulling Brownie away from the door, “That’s Jamie.” He’ll worry later about how he knows Jamie from those vague sentences. Tyler starts a mad dash for his bedroom, dragging Brownie behind him, but Brownie pulls away from him, and with an evil smirk, runs back to the door and swings it open. Tyler Brown has a death wish. Tyler turns on a dime just as quickly, panting, while trying to not look guilty, as if he'd been running for the hills, which he had totally not been, no way._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Jamie stands confused, hand still hanging mid-knock as Tyler and Brownie pant into the silence. Jamie takes in Brownie’s state of undress, their wide eyes and fast paced breathing, and immediately appears to get the wrong idea._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Oh, sorry,” Jamie blushes, hovering awkwardly between fleeing and introducing himself. Eventually he roots his feet, eyebrows furrowed in what looks like poorly concealed anger. “What about Brownie?” He asks like a heartbroken kid. Tyler is decidedly too hungover to deal with new emotions on new people._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“This is Brownie,” Tyler fixes, and introduces, hoping to appease whatever emotion’s come over Jamie. Thankfully, Jamie’s expression goes from devastated to elated in the drop of a hat._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Where are our manners,” Brownie says as he elbows Tyler in the ribs, and ushers Jamie inside. Jamie tries to evade Brownie’s tightening grip, but Tyler’s been there before, and gives Jamie a look that says ‘please don't resist, he’ll just make this harder.’ Jamie, ever the Canadian boy, just smiles politely, if not a little helplessly, at Brownie, then at Tyler. He doesn't see the absolutely diabolical smirk being directed at Tyler over his head._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“So, Jamie, tell me about yourself.” Brownie’s eyes are small as slits, hooked on their pray. Jamie doesn't stand a chance. Tyler prays for protection and grips Jamie’s arm that’s not being held in a death grip by Brownie._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“You know, let’s not.” He suggests, smile sickeningly sweet, “I’m sure Jamie’s extremely busy, aren’t you?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Jamie, ever the helpless dove, just shoots them a confused smile, before he explains, “I mean, I was coming over to invite you to a cookout we’re having- well a teammate is having. But I have to cook side dishes before we go, so,” he trails off when he sees the way Brownie’s eyes are lit up._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Tyler would love to go,” Brownie promises, before Tyler can even get a word in, “I can watch Marshall.” Tyler is already shaking his head no, “Brownie you came all the way out here.” They have a silent debate, with one too many hand gestures, until Jamie interrupts them._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“You’re invited too, of course,” he tells Brownie, as if they’re weird to even consider that he wouldn't be invited. Brownie looks to Tyler, shrugs, and releases his leach-like grip from Jamie's arm. It's not often Brownie leaves Tyler hanging, their plans ultimately up to him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________A night with the Benn brothers does sound amazing to him, but he has to remind himself to be more cautious, especially with the pre-season so quickly approaching. There's no use breaking his heart to match his already broken reputation and self esteem._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He just has to control himself around Jamie, he decides. If he learns now, playing with him will just be that much easier. Practice makes perfect and all that._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Yeah then, that sounds fun.” Tyler tries to be cool, keep his voice even, but Jamie beams at Tyler's answer, and Tyler’s damn heart skips a beat, forcing him into a coughing fit that has Brownie cracking up while Jamie just pats awkwardly at his back. He should changed his locks, he should blacklist Brownie, he should invest in new friends._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Seven, in the lobby," Jamie calls over his shoulder, once Tyler's regained his breath and Brownie has stopped laughing at his misfortune. The door is barely closed behind him when Brownie leans against the back of the sofa, voice wistful as he says "It's so nice to watch him come, but it's even better to watch that man leave." Tyler doesn't justify that with an answer._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Did he play baseball?" Brownie asks, when his first prod doesn't get a reply, "because that ass-" Tyler tackles him over the back of the couch._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________They end up breaking his coffee table in a fit of laughter._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


	4. Chapter 4

It’s hard to pull away from Brownie after they're done scrambling for power over the other in the broken shards of the coffee table. They both lay, exhausted, on the floor in front of the Tv, close enough that their shoulders are touching. For the first time since he's landed, Tyler feels grounded instead of endlessly dizzy when he closes his eyes. 

Touch has always had that affect on him. From a young age he'd get looks from the other kids when his Mom would pick him up from school and he'd run straight in for a hug. Eventually, their bullying got to him, and soon after, he stopped hugging her altogether. That lasted weeks, and Tyler remembers it being the worst weeks of his life. His Mom had eventually found out why he stopped being so open to affection, and immediately sat him down. ‘Tyler,’ she had said, tone gentle but reprimanding, ‘don't let anyone tell you who does and doesn't deserve to show love to others. There’s too much hate in our world to let love be kept silent.’ 

After that, if people didn't want to show affection to him openly, he didn't want them at all. Models and all alike would scoff at him after they’d hook up, pretending he was just another dumb hockey player in public. He was seen as undeserving to them, and eventually he started to believe he was too. It ended more relationships than his partying habits did. That’s why, after being in Boston for months on end, with his only physical contact being when he was slammed against the boards, he brought home Marshall. 

He remembers the first day he went to pick out a dog. He sat in each kennel they had and waited for the feeling he knew he'd get when the right dog came to him. He spent ten seconds in a room of fifteen plus dogs that all looked exactly the same as Marshall, but Marshall stood out like a beacon. Even as a puppy he was cautious but curious. He had come up to Tyler slowly, shy even, as the other puppies tripped over themselves to get to Tyler as fast as possible, danger be damned. And maybe, after being treated so opposite of how he wanted, he appreciated the cautiousness that Marshall seemed to have that he himself could never master. 

Marshall was the runt of the liter, walking with a little limp from the bigger puppies who had trampled him everyday to get to their food bowls faster. Tyler saw himself, and couldn't leave Marshall there to face the same lonely fate Tyler thought about constantly. From that day on, he loved Marshall like he wanted to be loved, unconditionally and with reckless abandon. 

He’s never shared his Mom’s quote with anybody, a secret treasure he keeps to himself for when he needs it most, but he finds himself saying the last line out loud, into the quiet that’s settled between him and his best friend.   
When he looks over, Brownie’s head is tilted towards him, a soft smile on his lips. It radiates fondness, and reminds Tyler of how lucky he was to have found Brownie when he needed him most. “Lets get you your man, Seggy,” Brownie says, standing and reaching an arm down to help Tyler up. Tyler takes the hand, then accepts the hug his best friend pulls him into. Despite the reality that Brownie will eventually have to go home, Tyler feels like this city could really be his fresh start at something good. 

Phase one of operation ‘Get His Man’ has Brownie camped out on his bed while he tries on outfits. It feels cliche and like a movie, music blaring and clothes thrown all over the room. When he comes out of his closet next Brownie is downed in a giant sunhat and a bathrobe, legs crossed and reading a Better Homes and Gardens magazine with Marshall snuggled up against his side. Tyler snaps a photo before the other knows he's even in the room. Thankfully, Brownie approves an outfit within the hour, and then picks a swimsuit that he promises highlights Tyler’s “ass-ets". 

They use their leftover time before they have to shower to take Marshall around the block. Neither have much to say, silently walking under the heat of the Dallas sun, until Brownie drops a bomb, “so your captain totally thinks we’re a couple.” Tyler stops walking, ignoring how Marshall pulls on the leash. 

“Excuse me?” He can feel his mouth hanging open, gears turning in his head as the Benn brother’s questions and Jamie’s anger at seeing a half naked man in his apartment finally start to add up.

“Not exactly the sharpest tool in the box, are you Seggy,” Brownie teases with a shove to get him to keep walking. Marshall’s wet nose pushes against Tyler’s leg as he stampers forward, seeming to check up on his owner, before he licks Brownie’s hand in thanks. 

“Maybe that’s why they were nicer to me after I told them about you. Maybe before they thought my tweets and everything were homophobic instead of drunk mistakes.” Tyler’s mind is running through the hundreds of scenarios that could’ve played out over the last day and a half because of this miscommunication. Brownie stops him before he can get lost in his thoughts, “I didn't put it together until Benn saw us half naked and hungover this morning, if that’s any consolation.” Tyler shakes his head that, no, it’s not. He feels like an idiot. “I just had so much on my mind, I didn't even think to think of their questions that way.” He hopes he hasn't screwed up anything. But on the bright side, he knows now they really are open to having gay or bisexual players on their team. 

“What if they think I lied on purpose to get them to like me? I mean, it was pretty obvious they didn't like my response when Jamie mentioned that sexuality didn't matter on their team.” He's working himself up, and he can feel it. Brownie shoves him down onto one of the benches dotted along their trial. It helps to sit down, making it easier for him to focus in on the millions of thoughts he has rushing through his head. 

“Okay, my bad,” Brownie says, realizing he's let Tyler go deeper into his thoughts. He pulls Tyler up from the bench and forces him to walk on. “Brownie what if-,” Brownie cuts him off, “we’ll explain to the Benn brothers on the car ride to the party. Everything will be fine, and if it isn’t, I'm there.” It calms Tyler enough that he can focus on breathing and Marshall instead of his thoughts for the rest of the walk. 

Time feels like it flies once they get back and get ready. Before Tyler can even panic about the talk they have to have with Jamie and Jordie, they're having it. Brownie has to swoop in and save Tyler after he stumbles his way through the beginning of the explanation, but by the end they’re all laughing, especially as Brownie tells the Benn brothers how they broke Tyler’s coffee table. The story gets them all the way to the hosting teammate’s house. 

From the outside you could never tell a party is going on. The sun is just starting to go down, casting a glow over the clean-cut house and it’s landscaping. The lake the house sits beside can be seen from the driveway, boats pulling tubers and children splashing a couple docks down. Its already so different from Boston, where parties wouldn’t start until one in the morning, in the back of some old bar or club that was too exclusive for people who weren't looking to get shit-faced and complain about their relatively easy lives. 

Tyler is even more baffled when Jordie leads them through to the back instead of to the front door. His swimsuit, still in the car, and his body, decidedly not in the car, will possibly see the light of day during a party for the first time in years. 

The back of the place is astonishingly beautiful, like something from a movie. There’s large trees that loom over most of the backyard, all the way to the dock, creating a perfect shaded area with a breeze that’s keeping the bugs away. 

Jamie hands over the platter of food he brought to a guy that’s just finished hugging Jordie. The guy puts it down on a nearby table and goes straight to Tyler and claps him on the shoulder. Tyler figures he's a teammate, so he holds out his hand, introducing himself. The teammate looks at him like he's a martian and pushes his hand away. Tyler’s stomach is a step away from dropping to his feet when the guy tugs him forward into a hug instead and sways him slightly. Tyler definitely doesn't sniff to make sure the dude isn't hammered. When they pull apart his smile is wide and kind in a way Tyler is starting to connect to Dallas. 

“I’m Jason, but everyone calls me Daddy,” the teammate introduces, smile growing as Tyler, wide-eyed, looks to Jamie and Jordie for help. He can’t tell if this is a joke that he's about to fall face first into. Surely no one on the team actually calls this guy Daddy. 

“To be fair, it wasn't our team that started the nick-name,” Jordie tells him, settling Tyler’s fear of his first Dallas hazing. That sets Jason off into the real explanation of how the name began, opening conversation to nearly anything and everything. If first impressions prove to be accurate, Tyler thinks they’ll be good friends. Eventually though, Jason has to help someone find a towel, and it’s only then that Tyler takes a full look around at the party. 

Over the years he's learned that every party is a variation of a theme. He had come to know this was true even before he had turned the golden age of twenty one. By that time, he had the art of parties mastered. Parties were routine, a simple formula of drinking, plus mingling, plus an eventual end game of sex. Something here doesn't add up.

His first Dallas party takes everything he knows and completely burns those ideas to the ground. There’s scantily dressed girls, like usual, but they're with other girls, almost completely ignoring the guys. There’s booze, like usual, but it’s fine liquors and IPAs instead of bud light and twist offs. Then there’s the guys, which confuse Tyler most of all. No one is actively trying to pull. The guys that have girlfriends or wives are happily chatting up their teammates, and the single guys could seem to care less about the group of girls spotted around. Tyler feels like he’s in the twilight zone. 

Jordie and Jamie are kind enough to ignore his shock, and instead introduce him and Brownie around. The whole time Jamie sticks close, explaining things when Tyler has questions, and whispering names, positions, and years into Tyler’s ear. It’s unnecessary, because no one expects him to know everyone yet, but Tyler leans in to Jamie anyway. 

Thanks to the younger Benn's proximity, Tyler looses track of Brownie, but when he looks to find him he's wedged between two guys and laughing his ass off, so Tyler leaves him be, and stays latched onto Jamie. 

As the sun sets, more drinks come out. Instead of needing one, Tyler just wants one, so he sits with Jamie and some other teammates and lets the feeling of being content wash over him. 

It’s not until later, when the sun is fully down, that he's thrown over Jamie’s shoulder, the older running towards the lake at full speed while Tyler yells happily. The closer they get to the end of the dock, the tighter Tyler grips, until they're flying off the end of the pier. 

When they come up for air, Jamie is laughing, party lights faint behind him, and Tyler can't help but close the distance between them.


	5. Chapter 5

Jamie’s mouth is warm and wet along his, the water cold between them until Jamie’s hands find his hips, pulling him closer until their chests meet. There's no hesitation. Tyler’s still scared that Jamie will pull away, but as the kiss gets more intense everywhere Jamie touches is soothed, Tyler's muscles relaxing under his searching hands. His mouth opens soon after, pulling Tyler deeper into the kiss. It’s everything Tyler could’ve imagined. 

He never thought he could have this, but Jamie doesn't stop him, only pulls him closer, keeping him warm. 

The water laps around them as they kiss, each gasped breath between them becoming more intimate as time slows to a halt. Jamie is the first to pull away, but he doesn't go far, keeping Tyler close before pressing back in for an even deeper, quick kiss. The change of pace throws Tyler, making his breath gasp out of him, forcing Jamie to pull back. 

Each second feels like an eternity as Jamie looks at Tyler, who can barely form a thought, too focused on the way Jamie’s hand strokes up and down his side where his shirt has risen up with the current. His skin is goose-bumped, but he feels like fire where Jamie is touching him. He doesn't ever want to leave this moment. 

“Kiss me again,” Tyler all but begs, hands griped in Jamie’s soaked shirt. They didn't have time for suits when Jamie decided to throw Tyler over his shoulder. Just thinking about earlier takes Tyler’s brain for a ride. That moment feels like a lifetime ago, as if they’ve been stuck half underwater and sealed together for hours. 

“Tyler, we need to stop,” Jamie starts, and suddenly the warmth that was cocooning him feels frigid. He thought Jamie wanted this. Jamie didn't pull away, he kissed back. Tyler tries to get away, chest squeezing tight, but Jamie holds him still, his hand cupping the back of Tyler’s neck. It’s excruciatingly intimate, but Tyler can’t look away from Jamie, who's looking at him like he means something, like he's everything Jamie wants. 

“If you could see yourself right now,” Jamie’s tone is deep and pulling, his thumb tracing Tyler’s bottom lip as he takes in the sight, “you’re beautiful.” Tyler has no self respect, so he lets Jamie keep him close, reveling in the warmth for what, he thinks, will be the last time. 

Tyler doesn't mean to be annoying, or too needy, but he needs to know why Jamie kissed him, so in a moment of weakness he asks, “why don't you want me?” He hopes it doesn't sound as pathetic as it feels. 

“How could you think that?” Jamie asks, face a mask of his emotions compared to the openness he displayed just seconds ago. “I don't just want you, I want everything that comes with being with you.” Jamie says it like he means it, and Tyler feels steps behind the conversation, dizzy with everything that’s happening. “I’m confused,” he admits, too cautious to get his hopes up when Jamie says what he wants to hear, but acts like he’s letting Tyler down gently. 

“Tyler, we just met,” and here it comes, Tyler thinks. “I haven't even known you for a full forty-eight hours. This is crazy.” Jamie is the one to pull away now, and Tyler lets him, needing the space to think straight, even though a shiver works its way through his body. 

“You don't have to pretend like I mean something to you,” Tyler finally says, once it’s clear Jamie is still working through his thoughts. Tyler’s not angry, he's just cold and a little numb from the rollercoaster of emotions he went through. It’s not like he should’ve ever expected Jamie to actually like him. That’s ridiculous. 

Jamie tries to refute, but Tyler cuts him off, “No, man, it’s okay. No need for explanations, I misread the situation. Sorry.” He's wading through the water to get to the pier when Jamie grabs him and pushes him against one of the dock’s supporting beams, and kisses him like he's the air Jamie needs to breathe. 

“I want you.” Jamie pants when they break for air, as if there was any mistaking what just happened. “I just, I think this is too fast,” Tyler starts to push Jamie away, but Jamie grabs his hands, holding them tight to his chest, “I guess what I'm saying is, will you go to dinner with me?” 

The question hangs between them until a nervous laugh bubbles out of Tyler’s mouth, but when he looks at Jamie there’s only sincerity and something that looks dangerously like hope in his eyes. Tyler’s nodding a yes before he can overthink it. He wants this and he wants Jamie, consequences be damned. He wants to grow to love Jamie unconditionally, and with reckless abandon, and be loved in return. If he has to take a chance to get there, he's willing to. 

“We should probably head back,” Jamie says, breaking Tyler from his thoughts. The chatter coming from the backyard is definitely softer than it was earlier, as if the world is muffled under the cautious happiness radiating from the dock. 

Jamie pecks him on the check innocently before they head back, as if his tongue wasn't halfway down Tyler’s throat a minute before. It still brings a flash of heat to Tyler’s face. Despite the darkness, he hangs his head to hide the blush. 

He expects the return to the party to feel stilted, as if everything’s changed, but as they come out of the water and closer to the party, Jason is already hollering at them, throwing towels at them when they get close enough. 

“Daddy, you got clothes that'll fit me and Ty?” Jamie asks, once it’s clear the cold air wont help them dry off. Tyler doesn't realize how cold he is until he's in Jason’s bathroom, stepping into an oversized pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. The last hour seems like a dream, the cold the only thing grounding him. He finds his gaze locked on his reflection, in wonderment of how this could possibly be his life. He's giddy, overjoyed; he texts his mom, ‘I think I’m in love with Dallas.’ 

When he gets out to the bonfire they have going Jamie is already there, dressed in sweatpants and a shirt that are just on the edge of being too tight on him, sandwiched between Jordie and Brownie. There’s no open seats, and Tyler falters for a second, unsure where he should go. Brownie pats his lap as an invitation to sit at the same time Jamie does. With a knowing look Jordie laughs, loud and telling. He gives Tyler a wink, and his brother a thumbs up. It doesn't dissipate the awkwardness. 

Tyler goes to sit on Brownie, keeping his head down to hide his blush, but to get past Brownie he has to step around Jamie. Jamie doesn't let him get far. He pulls Tyler into his lap, arranging them the way he wants them, before meeting everyone’s eyes, daring them to comment. No one does. 

Talk around the fire is mostly about his teammate’s lives and their woes. Jason claims he’s two PR incidences from being kicked off the team, but Jamie laughs at him, promising that coach loves him.

“You’d know, you teacher’s pet,” someone Tyler thinks is nick-named Spezza chrips. If anyone talked to Chara like that they’d be flayed at the next practice, but here everyone laughs. Just listening to them all talk openly about their problems, stories, and high points is like watching the gears of a clock turn, their lives mingled and winded together perfectly. The guys in Boston had a name for teams like this, a term derogatory in every way, but Tyler feels nothing but harmony as he sits in this circle of guys who’d be willing to go to hell and back for one another. It’s almost enough of a distraction to have him forgot the about the heat plastered along his back and front, where Jamie’s arm is wrapped around him. Every once and a while Jamie squeezes his arm tighter, pulling Tyler closer. There’s no fear of what anyone will say. Even though some of the guys’ gazes linger on their captain and new teammate, it’s more in a curious way than a judgmental one. 

One by one guys start heading home, all liberally using Jason’s nick-name as they say goodbye and thanks. Eventually it’s just the Benn brothers, Jason, Tyler, and Brownie, quiet around the fire. 

“I always thought they'd get together,” Jamie says lowly, into Tyler’s ear, nodding his head towards where Jordie and Jason are barely a foot apart, relaxed and chatting.  
“Wasn’t in the cards?” Tyler asks, trying not to shiver at the way Jamie’s breathing ghosts along his neck. Jamie picks up on his timid shift right away. Tyler can feel his smirk against his neck. The smirk turns into a soft kiss, forcing Tyler’s eyes to flutter closed. 

“Okay, I’m calling it,” Jordie announces, when he sees that Brownie is half asleep in his chair, gaze lost in the fire. Tyler squirms his neck away from Jamie’s mouth, hot under the collar, feeling like they’ve been caught. Jordie doesn't seem to notice. 

Getting off Jamie’s lap is torturous. He’s left cold and embarrassingly turned on. He busies himself with helping Demers clean up empty bottles, ignoring the way he can feel Jamie’s gaze on him. There’s no denying their physical connection, Tyler just has to convince Jamie that his real personality is as appealing as his looks and nail their date. 

Jason gives them all hugs when they leave, even Brownie, who he exchanges numbers with. 

In the car Jamie still sits up front with Jordie, in favor of letting Brownie snuggle up against Tyler and sleep on the short drive home. Tyler feels like he's been a bad friend tonight, too caught up in meeting everyone and in introducing his mouth to Jamie’s. 

They part ways with the Benn brothers in the lobby with hugs, Jamie’s the tightest of all. The trek up to their floor is silent, but Tyler thinks it’s more because of how sleepy Brownie is. It isn't too late, only two am, but Tyler’s reminded that Brownie drove all night to get to him the day before, and probably only slept for an hour or two when he curled up next to Tyler that morning. 

When the door to the apartment closes behind them Tyler has half of an apology out of his mouth when Brownie punches his arm hard enough to actually hurt. 

“What-,” he starts, but Brownie’s sleepy grin widens. “You dog,” he says, then, “you’re telling me everything. Was he a good kisser?” Tyler splutters, at a loss for words. 

“Don’t act like I don't know your ‘I’ve just been kissed’ face. I know all your faces.” And, okay, fair enough. Tyler opens his mouth to explain but Brownie stops him with the wave of a hand. 

“Wait, take Marshall out first, I’ll get ready for bed, and then we’ll talk.” 

Tyler happily agrees, wanting time to get his story together. He searches for Marshall, who’s decided to stay sleeping instead of investigate the sounds at the door. Some guard dog. 

When he makes it back up from taking Marshall up, Marshall commandeers a spot for himself on the bed, and Tyler follows the sounds of the running facet to the bathroom. He talks Brownie through everything that happened while they get ready for bed, feeling like he's gushing over his high school crush. 

Before they get into bed, Brownie hugs him tight. “I’m happy for you,” he says, “but be careful. Don't let your only source of happiness be this guy, okay? You need to be happy and feel better for you, not him. Cause if things go bad, you’re left right where you started.” Tyler nods into his shoulder, knowing that Brownie is right.

When they crawl into their sides of the bed, his friend frowns, “Is he going to mind that I’m sleeping with you?” Tyler shrugs, uncaring, “Me and you, we’re a package deal.” Brownie kicks him under the covers, cooing at Tyler.  
Tyler gets his revenge, “plus, the guest room has nothing but a box in it, there’s no way your fat ass would fit sleeping in it.” Brownie is too tired to argue back, so he swings his arm out to hit Tyler, but misses by a mile. 

They’re asleep within minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have another fic, totally separate from this one, that I'm currently writing from Jordie's perspective of Jamie and Tyler's relationship and it has some Tyler whump but idk if anyone would be interested in it so if you are comment and I'll post it for ya'll :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check the end notes for trigger warnings!

Reality comes knocking in the morning when Tyler wakes up to breakfast in bed. Brownie’s cooking is disastrous at best, so it’s not the treat anyone would expect. Especially because breakfast in bed means one thing, and one thing only; that Brownie wants to have a Serious Conversation. Caps and all. 

From the way he shifts, cross-legged in front of Tyler with a plate balancing on his knees, Tyler can tell whatever this is about is big. 

“Out with it, let’s get this over with,” Tyler prods, biting into the first piece of burnt toast. It’s foul, even worse than the last time when Brownie set off the fire alarm. While Brownie is busy picking at his own plate, Tyler spits out the toast into his napkin. What Brownie doesn't know can’t hurt him. 

“I know we talked a little last night, but we really need to have a proper talk about you and Jamie.” Tyler huffs his annoyance, and falls back into their mound of pillows. He tries to reason with God, begging for mercy to suddenly be a concept that Brownie understands, but Brownie keeps pushing. 

“This is a thing you do, Ty. You obsess over something or someone when your life gets hard and you let your obsession consume your life so that you don't have to deal with your problems.” 

Tyler knows it’s true, but this is different. How does Brownie not see how different this is? “But this actually is my new life. Jamie is my future for as long as Dallas and him will have me,” Tyler argues. Brownie hits him with a low shot before he's ready. “And what happens if Dallas trades you? What happens if you and Jamie break up?” 

Tyler doesn't have an answer. 

“You need to be happy being here, you need to be happy being somewhere else, with or without him. I need you to be okay. He's a crutch you cant afford to lose right now and that’s not healthy.” 

Tyler can’t look at Brownie. He can’t meet his friend’s pleading eyes and lie to his face with promises that he’ll be okay without something to lean on. He thought Brownie would be happy. Of all the things Tyler’s done, leaning on Jamie is much healthier than his past stints with drugs, alcohol, or nameless sex. He doesn't add his past infatuations with people because none of them have ever returned the interest. It was always him, pinning and being drown in the wake of whoever had his heart. Jamie’s thrown him his first life vest and he’ll be damned if he's not hanging on tight. 

Brownie grabs his hand, “Tyler please tell me you'll try.” The begging tone is enough to leave Tyler with a pound of lead in his stomach. “I want to be happy,” he says. Brownie nods like he understands, but they both know it’s a non-answer. “Just think about it. Try to be happy without him before you jump into a relationship.” 

They leave it at that, nothing left to say that they haven't already tired to get through to the other. 

Later that night, when Tyler is invited to go out with his new team, he says no. Brownie voices his disappointment, and Tyler realizes he can’t win. 

They end up marathoning movies and Tyler tries to feel happy, he really does. But his mind keeps going back to Jamie. He knows the team is at a club somewhere downtown right now, drinking and relaxed, probably dancing with whoever throws themselves their way. Tyler bets Jamie is a terrible dancer, all awkward moves and no swagger. He hopes Jamie is a giggly, unashamed drunk.

He gets to find out.

His door gets nearly broken off it’s hinges around one am, just when Brownie is picking out their third movie. Through the thick wood of his door Tyler can hear Jamie whining and Jordie laughing. The pounding, from who Tyler assumes is Jamie, doesn't even bother Marshall, who just looks up from where he's laying against Brownie. Tyler raises his eyebrows at his dog, but Marshall just lets his head drop, disappearing between the couch cushions. 

The door is heavy when he opens it, and when he steps back to let the door swing open on its own Jamie goes tumbling to the floor, laughing at himself even as he pouts. Jordie looks up from his brother’s splayed form with wide eyes. “He did it,” Jordie says pointing at Jamie, even though Tyler had no doubt to who he was referring, only to what he was referring to. “Did what?” Tyler asks, half amused and half afraid. Jamie holds his hand out to Tyler, placing a door handle in Tyler hand. It says a lot that it’s not the weirdest thing he’s been given by a drunk teammate. He’s just glad it’s not his. 

“Thank you?” Tyler asks, unsure. Jamie’s answering smile is pleased, so Tyler thinks he said the right thing. 

“Anyway man, my girlfriend is upstairs waiting for me,” Jordie explains looking hopeful, and Tyler cant leave his new teammate hanging. “I’ve got Jamie, go have fun.” Jordie pulls Tyler in, kissing his forehead, then repeats the motion on his brother. “Behave,” he warns both of them, already halfway down the hall. 

“Wear a condom!” Tyler shouts after him, then realizes he has neighbors and it’s one am on a weekday. He shuts his door as soft as he can as an apology. 

When he turns around Jamie is still on the floor, just staring up at him like he’s the only thing worth looking at. Tyler fights the butterflies filling up his stomach and pulls Jamie up from the floor, catching him when he wavers on his feet. 

He can do this, no problem. What could possibly go wrong? 

He knows Brownie won’t be happy, but he didn't have a choice. Plus, he can’t ignore his teammates forever in leu of trying to ‘find his happiness,’ or whatever Yoda shit Brownie threw at him this morning. 

“Brownie we have company,” He says, as if Brownie isn't already sat up, glaring daggers into Tyler’s soul. Even Marshall gives him a judgement-filled look. He’s left alone to wrestle all two-hundred and seven pounds of Jamie Benn onto the couch. Just when he’s free of the weight, Jamie tugs on his arm, not relenting until Tyler sits on the edge of the giant ottoman that spans the length of the couch. He’s reminded that he picked this couch because of it’s bed-like size and comfiness, and now he's basically in bed with Jamie Benn. His stomach flips. Brownie gives him a look that says he knows exactly what Tyler is thinking, then rolls his eyes. 

“Okay, Jam, want to watch a movie with us?” Tyler asks Jamie, even as all of Jamie’s attention is focused on the grip he has on Tyler’s wrist. “You’ve got small wrists.” he says, squeezing one in his mammoth hands. Tyler gulps, definitely not letting his mind think of what else Jamie could do with his hands that big. “So yes to a movie, great, cool, awesome,” he babbles. 

Brownie plays whatever one he had queued up and Tyler forces Jamie to move over a little so that he can fit on the end of the couch. They lay like sardines, Jamie in the middle. It only takes a second for Jamie to decide that he’s not satisfied, and so he rolls over to snuggle into Tyler’s chest. 

“I’m getting him water and food,” Brownie says snippily, disappearing with Marshall in his wake. The new privateness only makes Jamie sigh happily and nuzzle Tyler’s neck. Once he’s there, there’s nearly no hope of moving him. Tyler prays that Jamie falls asleep before he has a heart attack from the way his heart is pounding. 

When Brownie gets back Jamie reaches for the water bottle and pretzels he brought, mumbling unending thanks as he starts gulping down the water. It gives Tyler a minute to think straight, without the constant brush of warm air against his neck that forces shivers down his spine.

That peaceful minute ends up being all the time he gets, because the second Jamie is bored with the water he's right back where he was, except now he's on a mission. He nuzzles Tyler’s neck with a vengeance, more happy sighs escaping his lips. “Ty,” he mutters, his lips starting to trail to Tyler’s jaw. Jamie bites down, fast and hard, and Tyler yelps, pushing Jamie away. “You bit me,” he says, shocked, touching his jaw where he can feel an imprint of Jamie’s teeth. Jamie shrugs, a goofy smile on his lips, “you seemed to like it last nigh-,” Brownie grabs the back of Jamie’s shirt, yanking him back. “Keep your hands off him, Benn,” he growls. 

Tyler’s life is ridiculous. 

“Brownie it’s okay,” he promises. Then to Jamie, “You’re drunk. You have to keep your hands, and lips, to yourself.” 

“But I used my teeth,” Jamie says, clicking his mouth shut with an exaggerated chomp, as if he’s proud he didn't break Tyler’s rules. “No teeth, too.” Jamie’s happy expression melts, and he lays back down, head cuddled back on Tyler’s chest. Tyler sighs, feeling like anything else he says will just be useless and counterproductive. Jamie surprises him though, popping up and giving Tyler the most heartbroken expression he's ever seen. “Is this against the rules too?” Jamie asks, as if not being able to lay his head on Tyler’s chest will be the end of all things good. 

Tyler gives in, “that’s okay, Jamie. Just no kissing.” 

Jamie figures out two minutes later that Tyler didn't say anything about trying to blow raspberry’s on Tyler’s stomach. 

“But I didn't break the rules,” Jamie argues, as Brownie pulls him to the other side of the couch. Brownie makes himself comfortable in his new spot between Jamie and Tyler, then turns the volume up on the movie. 

It takes Jamie half of a minute to start trying to sneakily crawl over Brownie to get to Tyler. Except there is no sneaky way to crawl over a person, especially while drunk. Brownie forces Jamie to lay back down four separate times before all hell breaks loose, both Brownie and Jamie wrestling to get the other out of their way. 

Mid fight, Jamie decides his best tactic is to try to jump over Brownie. He miscalculates, landing on top of Brownie hard, and winding them both. Tyler winces for the bruises he knows they’ll both have by morning. When Brownie catches his breath he starts shoving at Jamie, almost frantically. 

“Fucking hell, Benn, that better be a phone in your pocket.” 

Tyler flushes, but Jamie doesn't blink an eye, and instead uses Brownie’s incapacitated state to crawl the remainder of the distance to Tyler and plop down half on top of both of them. 

It’s going to be a long night, Tyler realizes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Possible consent issues (Jamie is drunk and tries to snuggle/kiss Tyler) 
> 
> If any of you would follow me on Tumblr let me know and I'll post my username!


	7. Chapter 7

Before the ending credits play Brownie has given up all hope of containing Jamie. The Captain in question has gone from absolutely plastered to just slightly hammered and no one’s died, so Tyler thinks they should all be proud of themselves. Brownie, on the other hand, is blatant with his annoyance. 

It’s been a while since Tyler’s been the sober friend, so he feels no right to complain when Jamie passes out on him, mouth open and snoring. He’s sure he's done it to too many people to count. Tyler doesn't remember his own pass outs, but they normally involved a lot more puke and a lot more soul-bearing confessions, so all things considered, Jamie is pretty tame.

He’s also very snuggly, and even in sleep his arms are iron-tight around Tyler. Jamie is soft, and warm, and heavy just the way Tyler likes, so he supposes there are worse things he could be forced to live through. Though he doesn't want to admit it, the weight on his chest settles him like nothing else ever has.

“I didn’t really like it,” Brownie says about the movie, as if Tyler was able to pay attention to a single second of it. He gives a bullshit answer in return, and suffers Brownie’s judgmental look in consequence. 

“He’s not sleeping with you,” Brownie says, no longer pretending to care about the movie. Jamie mutters in his sleep, smacking his lips and humming a noise of disapproval, as if he knows he’s being condemned to the couch. 

Tyler pushes down the urge to coo, and instead rolls his eyes at Brownie. He doesn't remember turning seventeen again. They argue for a ridiculous time, but eventually settle on all three of them sleeping on the couch. It’s as close as Tyler can get to having Jamie wrapped around him all night, so he’ll take it, even if Brownie will be chaperoning the whole thing. 

They turn on another movie just for something to fall asleep to, and soon after are dead to the world. 

Because things never turn out as they’re supposed to, Tyler gets woken up at dawn by a knee digging into his stomach. Jamie is hovering over him, hand over Tyler’s mouth to keep him quiet. “Come with me,” he whispers, then stumbles his way off of the couch. Jamie disappears into the darkness, and Tyler has to take a second to shake himself awake. The night rushes back to him pretty quickly. 

Tyler only has a moment to miss the heat that was previously wrapped around him because Jamie’s face appears from over the back of the couch, his nose an inch from Tyler’s. If Tyler had been anymore awake he’s sure he’d be having a heart attack. He carefully unclenches his hand from where it had flung to grip onto Brownie, and checks to make sure his friend is still asleep. Brownie mumbles, but continues snoring. 

“Come with me,” Jamie repeats. He pauses for a second, then messily pushes his lips to Tyler’s cheek. When he pulls back he’s blushing, but looks proud, and leaves Tyler shocked in his wake. The only thing that gets Tyler’s brain back on track is the sound of Jamie flicking on the stove’s burners. He’d rather not have a disaster on his hands. 

He can just imagine Jordie, disappointed and in a bath robe, taking Jamie away from him after the fire department declares their building unlivable. Tyler gets to the kitchen in a record time of under five seconds. It’s still enough time for Jamie to be digging in the fridge with the open flame at the stove left unattended. 

“No, Jamie,” Tyler hisses quietly, dealing with the stove first. 

“Yes, Jamie,” Jamie says with a goofy smile as he holds up a carton of eggs. It melts Tyler’s exasperation. Jamie’s obviously still drunk, but much better than he was hours ago. 

In a way that’s nearly superhuman, Tyler makes them breakfast with Jamie plastered to his back. Every cracked egg gets him a kiss to the back of the neck, every dirtied plate a squeeze, but he draws the line when he turns the burner off and Jamie’s hand goes dangerously low from where it was resting on his stomach. He should get a medal for his patience. “Jamie, counter,” Tyler commands, waving his spatula in the direction of the breakfast nook. Jamie goes, head down and socked feet shuffling on the title floor. It’s so endearing that Tyler forces himself to turn around and worry over the eggs, convinced staring any longer will melt his heart into a useless puddle. 

When everything’s finally finished Tyler turns around to a scene that makes his stomach swoop. Jamie is at the counter, long legs folded up awkwardly on the stool, and leaned forward, resting his chin in one palm. He’s staring at Tyler like he hung the stars in the sky. 

“You’re so perfect,” Jamie says, exasperated, and throws his head down onto the hard granite. Tyler thinks he can hear more muttering, but he’s too shocked to listen properly. Also, _ouch_ , he hopes Jamie’s head is okay. Though a brain injury would explain the way he’s drooling over Tyler. 

“Eat up, Jame.” Tyler hopes the food is enough of a distraction for Jamie to come back to his senses a little, despite how much he enjoyed being the center of Jamie’s world.  
Jamie does perk up at food, but only until it touches his lips. He lets out the longest groan, a sound definitely not dedicated to pleasure, and drops his head back to the counter. “You’re even good at this,” he whines, unknowingly killing Tyler’s anxiety.  
Tyler’s blush gains ground, spreading to his chest like wildfire. 

They eat in silence after that, exhaustion catching up to both of them now that the sun has started to shine into the windows. It seems to break the spell that nighttime had over them. After eating Jamie is slightly more sober, carefully edging toward what will be a killer hangover. It’s the house’s first guest hangover and Tyler is a little proud that it’s Jamie. 

Food ends up being not such a good idea when two hours later they’re curled together in Tyler’s bed, and Jamie has to book it the ten remaining feet to the in-suit bathroom. Tyler sympathizes with the pained noises echoing into the bedroom, and carefully peals himself out of the covers and to Jamie. 

Jamie’s pretty embarrassed, his head hung low against the toilet. He whimpers when Tyler cards a hand through his hair. “I’ll get you painkillers and some water, hang tight.” So what if Tyler leaves a kiss on the back of Jamie’s head. So what if he secretly enjoys being the one to take care of Jamie. So what if he wants Jamie, even at his worst. 

Tyler has to pause outside his bedroom door, and force the realizations down. He’s never actually taken care of somebody when they're sick before, not including his family, and Brownie, because Brownie is his family. This is a big step in a relationship, one Tyler’s never taken. Hell, he's never even been trusted with the idea of it before. Yet here he is, thrown into the lion’s den unannounced. He promises himself that he wont fuck it up. He’ll be the best caretaker on this side of the country, experience be damned. 

Tyler grabs a change of clothes and a towel, gives himself a mini-motivational speech, and walks head first into the crime scene that is his bathroom. 

Jamie has migrated from kneeling over the porcelain throne to now being curled up next to it. It’s progress in Tyler’s book. Judging from his many, many years of experience, Jamie has approximately three positions to go through until he’s ready to be moved. 

Tyler waits him out like a pro while channeling his inner-mom. He keeps one hand on Jamie at all times, a constant reassurance that he's here, and he’s not leaving. When he’s not running his fingers through Jamie’s hair, he’s rubbing up and down the expanse of his back. Vaguely, Tyler remember’s his mom pushing a cold towel to his forehead in desperate times, so Tyler pulls himself from Jamie for two seconds to get a washcloth. Jamie groans appreciatively at the coolness, and Tyler mentally pats himself on the back. 

It’s not long after, when Tyler’s taken to sitting within arm’s reach on the lip of the tub, that Jamie turns away from the toilet and drops his head into Tyler’s lap. “Thank you,” he mumbles. 

It’s not like it’s a big deal. Totally, not a big deal. 

Tyler’s eyes water anyway, probably from the harsh bathroom light. He smiles, cards his finger’s through Jamie’s hair one last time, and definitely doesn't scrub away tears from his cheeks. He did it after all, he successfully took care of Jamie, what’s there to be emotional about? 

Their moment lasts as long as Tyler can take stewing in his own thoughts. So he helps Jamie up a minute later, and forces a towel into his hands, promising he’ll be right outside. 

Tyler manages to scroll through all of Twitter, Instagram, and his emails when Jamie comes out of the bathroom in a billow of steam, Tyler’s t-shit stretched tight over his chest, and sweat pants clinched a good two inches above Jaime’s ankle. Tyler has to cough to get his heart back on beat. 

Jamie takes the couple steps to Tyler’s bed then free falls the rest of the way, landing splayed amongst the pillows. 

“Feeling better?” Tyler asks, like Jamie doesn't have the healthy glow back in his skin. Jamie nods, but groans, mumbling something that sounds similar to “my head is in my ass.” Tyler considers the level of intoxication Jamie displayed last night, and thinks, yeah, your head is probably in your ass. 

Jamie lifts his head up then, and throws on his most apologetic puppy dog eyes. Tyler already knows that whatever Jamie’s about to ask, he’ll definitely say yes to. 

“I’m sorry I was so touchy, but will you still cuddle up with me right now?” It’s about the easiest question Tyler’s ever been asked. 

Even though Jamie’s the one in need of comfort, he still holds Tyler like Tyler’s the one who needs to be shielded from the poisons of the world. Their snuggled position doesn't last as long as either are hoping, both of their eyes coming open after only a minute of spooning action. 

“Do you by any chance have a fan?” Jamie asks, lips tickling Tyler’s ear. 

Tyler’s heart bubbles until he’s laughing, shaking against Jamie. “I knew I liked you for a reason,” he says, turning in Jamie’s arms to kiss his nose as he climbs over him and to the fan across the room. The first burst of cool air has Jamie burrowing deeper into their nests of blankets, and lifting up the edge of the covers for Tyler. Once they’re pressed together, bathed in the stinted light coming through the curtains, sleep comes easy. 

They sleep peacefully for hours, ignoring lunch as it comes and goes. 

Mornings are usually chaotic for Tyler. Between his dogs and his phone he doesn't ever seem to get a relaxing wake up call. Today’s the exception. 

Tyler’s eyes flutter open to a warm hand tracing up and down his side, with lips matching the sweeping movement on the crook of his neck. It’s so soothing his eyes grow heavy again, until he’s floating in and out of dreams. 

“Ty.” 

He dreams of hot sun and sprinklers. 

“Babe.” 

Then museums and poprocks. 

“Tyler.” The hand on his side dances over his abs, then presses flat, pulling him tighter against the wall of heat at his back. 

He wiggles until he's settled, then sighs as the lips on his neck start a more attention-consuming pattern. A flux in the soothing line of open mouthed kisses to his neck ends with a bite under his jaw that has him melting into the sheets, and pressing back into Jamie. He can’t be blamed for the smile that worms its way onto his face. 

“You goon,” he hisses, when Jamie sucks on the skin he’s been worrying at with his teeth. Jamie just laughs, warm and deep, and kisses over the spot as an apology. 

Neither bother with the time or getting up. It’s well past early afternoon if the sun filtering into the room is anything to go by. 

Tyler can’t remember a time he’s ever been happier. Even hosting the cup over his head feels like an unreachable memory of happiness, but this feels like he could lift a finger and ripple the air around them until they’re locked underwater in a cave of overwhelming emotions. 

Looking at Jamie through hooded eyes feels like a dream, and each laugh that Jamie forces out of him pushes him further down the rabbit hole, and deeper into water that’s bubbling with all new emotions. 

Time stretches and shifts to their whims, until Jamie goes bright eyed, and peels himself from the seal of Tyler’s legs that have found themselves wrapped around Jamie’s waist. They’re both panting and sweaty, clothes tacky between them, but Jamie’s smile is growing. He leans back until he’s kneeling, then takes a second to seemingly drink in the view of Tyler splayed out in front of him. 

Tyler blushes under the attention, and digs his heel into the back of Jamie’s thigh to force him to say what he obviously wants to say. 

“Let me take you somewhere,” he says, eyes full of mischief. Tyler leans up, until they’re both siting up, face to face. Jamie doesn't wavier, doesn't look away for even a second, and lets Tyler come to him, until their lips are meeting again. It starts off slow and innocent, but doesn't stay that way for long. Jamie gasps out a half-swear, half-moan, and gets his hands under Tyler’s thighs, pulling him up until Tyler’s wrapped around him again. They go rolling backwards with the shift in weight, but neither care and Tyler’s much too happy with the leverage the new position allows him. 

They don't leave Tyler’s bed for another ten minutes, ultimately deciding they need to slow it down. 

Being responsible adults and honoring the guidelines they set for their blatant attraction to one another doesn't stop Brownie from assuming the worst. They get through most of his interrogation until he’s satisfied that both are happily consenting parties to their- thing. He’s still snippy at best when they promise they’ll be back before dinner.

Jamie doesn't tell Tyler where they’re headed, but tells him it won’t be long. They sing loudly to bad songs, and after Jamie merges onto the highway his hand finds it’s way across the console. Tyler laser focuses his gaze on the horizon and slips his fingers through Jamie’s. He doesn't breathe until Jamie squeezes their hands together, and starts singing again. 

Tyler swears his heart’s fluttering is making bubbles rush up to his head. He’s dizzy with the feeling, and loving every second of it. 

The drive is over sooner than both would like, but the empty lot they stop in is enough to put saddened thoughts to rest. The lot itself isn't much, just dirt and half hidden parking lines from years of ware and tear. The real prize is the view. Hidden at the top of a uphill climb, the lot sits abandoned, overlooking the city. It’s breathtakingly gorgeous. “Jamie,” Tyler starts, ready to gush over the view, but when he looks to Jamie, Jamie is already looking at him. His eyes are glued to Tyler’s excited smile while all of Dallas gleams for them, practically begging for attention. The city lights are just starting to come on, but neither care. 

“I’ve always wanted to take somebody up here,” Jamie confesses, tearing his eyes from Tyler to look at the ground. It doesn't do much to hide the blush staining the tops of his cheeks. 

Of all the places Tyler imagined he’d be in a couple days time, here was not one of them. He thinks if he tried to picture a perfect day he'd end up right back here, Jamie shy and attentive while he shares his city. 

“Lay down with me?” Tyler asks, tugging Jamie towards the edge of the lookout. There’s thick layers of grass and a picnic table further down, but the grass looks soft, so Tyler tugs them down when they get close enough to the edge. 

For a while they sit in silence, both with their legs spread out in front of themselves and shoulder’s bumping. After the non-stop pace their lives have been set at lately, it feels like a moment frozen in time. 

“I know what this needs,” Jamie says. He kisses Tyler’s cheek chastely and leaves him alone on the edge. Tyler’s fine on his own, watching more and more lights turn on as the sun gets lower. It gives him a second to breathe in the moment and realize that this is his reality.

When Jamie rejoins him he hands Tyler a sweater and wrestles into one himself. The hoodie is a Dallas Stars hoodie, with ‘Benn’ and Jamie’s number on the back and front. Tyler happily slips it on, loving the way it hangs loose and cozy on his frame. Jamie seems to like it on Tyler too. He catches Tyler’s lips in a quick kiss, and pulls on the baggy material until Tyler scooches closer. 

It’s only once they’re hip to hip that Jamie sling’s his arm around Tyler’s and pulls a small lunch bag from his pocket. 

“Please tell me that’s weed,” Tyler laughs, burying his nose into Jamie’s chest. Jamie kisses the back of his head in reply and pulls Tyler closer as he uses both hands to roll them a joint. 

Tyler only has to think about the lengths of this team’s unspoken rules for a moment before he realizes he can just ask Jamie. It’s an amazing revelation. In Boston Tyler figured out what his teammates considered right and wrong by guessing and checking, too afraid to ask questions. Here though, he doesn't have to answer to disappointed looks or angry glares, and has someone willing to answer without judgement. 

He’s only a little nervous as he asks, “do a lot of players smoke weed?” He can feel Jamie shaking his head, so he just hums a questioning tone to force words out of him. It makes Tyler smile, knowing little things about Jamie, like his aversion to full sentences, and how to get him to speak his mind. 

“Not during the season, and not often during the off-season. More of a special occasion thing, especially with the new programs you have to go through if you’re caught with weed. It’s not worth the hassle.” 

Tyler nods along, telling his heart to stop warming over the idea of Jamie considering this a special occasion. To distract himself, he lets his eyes settle on Jamie’s hands as he finishes rolling the joint. Jamie lights up the end and gives Tyler the first hit. 

They pass it back and forth, blowing new clouds over the city that disappear nearly as quick as they come. The sky grows darker, and Tyler’s neck slowly forgets how to hold his head up. Jamie doesn't mind the extra weight Tyler leans on him, even hums appreciatively when they both give up on sitting and end up on their backs, splayed next to one another, ignoring the city lights for the stars. 

Jamie makes every moment feel like it’s suspended. 

Tyler thinks Dallas wouldn’t be the same without Jamie Benn. People wouldn't smile, because there’d be nothing to smile about. The sun wouldn't shine, because there’d be no reason for warmth. And flowers wouldn't grow, because there’d be no one to impress. 

“I’m happy you’re here,” Tyler confesses. He’s happy the sun will come up in the morning, he's happy people smile at him on the streets like he’s not ruining the city’s reputation, but mostly he’s happy that Jamie is changing everything for the better. 

Jamie's hand blindly searches out Tyler's chest, patting gently when he finds it. "Im happy you're here too," he says, still looking up at the stars. He doesn't mean it the way Tyler does.

If there were thousands of people in the dark, Tyler thinks he could find Jamie, just by the feeling he gets when he's in his orbit. 

Tyler wants to get up, wants to scream, because Jamie doesn't understand. But Jamie's hand is warm above his heart, settling him into the ground. They'll talk later, Tyler thinks, letting his eyes slip closed.

Later feels like an eternity that somehow passes in the blink of an eye. A burst of energy is all that propels Tyler forward, enough to have him getting quickly to his knees. He has to tell Jamie he's the best thing that's ever happened to him, that he would be nowhere without him, that he wants three dogs, and two babies, and a house that's door is always open to people like Jordie. 

His head goes fuzzy for a second, making him stumble from his knees, but Jamie's hands are there, like they always seem to be these days, holding him steady.

And isn't that perfect, Tyler thinks, that Jamie is able to prove his point in one motion. "Jamie you don't understand," he insists. The weed is making his thoughts jump, but he forces himself to focus. Oblivious to his turmoil, Jamie smiles sleepily under him, tugging on Tyler's arm in a way that suggests he’d be really happy if Tyler straddled his waist. Tyler’s not sure he could deny Jamie of anything, so he does, trying to ignore the content hum Jamie makes while his hands test their grip on Tyler's hips. They can go back to that later, this has to happen now.

Tyler tries out the weight of the words he's about to say over and over again in his head. If he doesn't get Jamie to understand he doesn't know what he'll do. He entertains the thought of just proposing here and now to get his point across, but he realizes how ridiculous that is as he's trying to get on one knee while already straddling Jamie.

The motion brings his attention back to the man in question, and just like that he's breathless, like a string’s been cut, and knows the only thing he can say.  
"Jamie, you're everything," Tyler tells him, not a single ounce of doubt in his words. Jamie eyes are still half-lidded, like Tyler didn't just reveal his whole hand. Hell- he's practically given Jamie the whole deck if they're talking cards. But they're not. They're here. Tyler, again, concentrates on concentrating. He wants to remember every second of this.

"Tyler," Jamie says, like saying it is something bigger than just saying a name. Maybe he’s starting to understand. Tyler wants this, and it’s all he wants for the rest of his life, to live in this bubble with Jamie, under the stars without a care in the world.

When Jamie pulls him down to kiss him it feels like everything Tyler's been waiting his whole life for. Like every bump and downfall was all so that he could get to this moment. And God, Tyler thinks, it was all worth it.  
Every night that he went to bed begging for everything to end was worth it, just to hold on to this moment. He'd take another year of pain and suffering if it meant this was his end game.

He realizes mid-kiss the severity of that train of thought, that if he ever tried to end everything he would've never met Jamie. He never would've been here, being kissed under the Dallas stars as a Dallas Star. He wouldn't have seen his life get better. It would just be cut off, over, done; he’d be dead.

It's only Jamie's comforting that makes Tyler realize he's crying into Jamie's neck. "Shhh, it's okay. I'm here. It's okay, let it out." Jamie keeps the words coming, a string of soothing whispers in his ear. The longer they stay pressed together the tighter Jamie's arms around Tyler get. There's not much that can force Tyler to tears, and there's even less that can pull him back from them, but Jamie manages with his tight grip and loving words.

Loving, Tyler thinks, is something he's not familiar with.

He thinks this might be love.

He can count the number of people he loves on one hand, but with Jamie on that list it feels full. Jamie needs to know, Jamie needs to understand. ”Jamie I-," Tyler starts, but finds himself unable to say it. 

Jamie smiles, but shakes his head no, like he knows, like he’s feeling it too, and this isn't the right time. "Later," he says as a promise, kissing Tyler's cheek where tears are still dotted. Tyler can only nod back, leaving them staring into each other's eyes with a heaviness between them that feels like a warm hug instead of a pressing weight, bound to crush them before they have a chance to grow.

If Tyler could, he's sure he'd be blooming right now. There'd be giant sunflowers sprouting everywhere, with roots that would hold Jamie tight and feed off his positivity, his good will, his acceptance, his eyes, his body, his- everything, forever. And Tyler would do everything in his power to pull sunlight to Jamie, to keep him safe under his shade and warm beneath him; to need and to be needed, to protect and be protected. It’s all Tyler’s ever wanted- Jamie is all Tyler’s ever wanted.

There’s too many words in the english language that just aren't enough to describe this feeling. He just knows he feels settled for the first time in a long time. His hands don't shake, his mind behaves, and his heart beats wildly, as if running a victory lap. This is what he lived for, and he couldn't be happier.

He isn't scared of the realization that he'd do anything for Jamie. If anything it feels good, like his life is finally not set to ruin in his own hands.

He kisses Jamie again, slow and languid, counting the seconds he gets of pure bliss. When they pull apart Jamie is dazed, staring into Tyler’s eyes like they hold the answer to all of life’s problems. 

“Tyler, let me show you the world.” 

Jamie looks hopeful, riding his future on any moment of time that Tyler will give to him. Neither have the mind to be embarrassed over the cheesiness of their stares, their words, or the meanings behind them.

Tyler thinks if this is a glimpse of the world with Jamie at his side, he’ll follow him to the depths of the earth.


End file.
